THE WISDOM OF AMERIGO BONASERA

I believe in America. America has made my fortune. And I raised my daughter in the American fashion. I gave her freedom, but -- I taught her never to dishonor her family. She found a boyfriend; not an Italian. She went to the movies with him; she stayed out late. I didn't protest. Two months ago, he took her for a drive, with another boyfriend. They made her drink whiskey. And then they tried to take advantage of her. She resisted. She kept her honor. So they beat her, like an animal. When I went to the hospital, her nose was a'broken. Her jaw was a'shattered, held together by wire. She couldn't even weep because of the pain. But I wept. Why did I weep? She was the light of my life -- beautiful girl. Now she will never be beautiful again. Sorry... I -- I went to the police, like a good American. These two boys were brought to trial. The judge sentenced them to three years in prison-- suspended sentence. Suspended sentence! They went free that very day! I stood in the courtroom like a fool. And those two bastard, they smiled at me! Then I said to my wife, "for justice, we must go to Don Corleone."

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First game kicks off at 2pm Eastern tomorrow. Here’s the link. Come on, you know you want to…

And on a personal note, I have a new nemesis. Someone decided to challenge my supremacy by signing up for the challenge under the name “Single Brown Alcoholic.” Well guess what buddy? Now it’s a race war!

(I’m only kidding. SBA is actually the infamous Blackout that’s made so many of my stories. But I’m still gonna kick his ass!)

Special thanks to Tempe12.com for their outrageously hot pics. If I ever have a son he’s going to be a Sun Devil!

I love college football. And although it’s been a little tough to watch this year (I don’t know what’s worse, the Sandusky scandal or the proliferation of the spread offense), I am still a fanatic. And I love bowl games. I know they’re not an ideal system, but rather than whine and moan about how much better a playoff would be, I prefer to just love the bowls the way they are. Think of them like your not-quite-all-there child, your love has to be unconditional.

But I have a problem with most bowl pools. Basically, all pick ’em leagues fall into one of two categories: Either all games are weighted the same –so that big FIU-Marshall matchup is worth the same as the National Championship– or you pick your “confidence” and self-rate the importance of the bowls –so you can actually make the National Championship the least important game.

So, after spending the better part of a week scouring the internet high and low, I finally found a site that would allow me to customize my own scoring system. For the curious, here’s how I broke it down:

The link to the pool is here. What’s at stake? Well, as you might already know, I actually work for an NCAA athletic department, so it would be illegal for me to be involved in any sort of sports wagering (that’s why I would never ever play fantasy football, or hockey, or basketball…). But I will honor the winner by lauding them copiously on this here blog, meaning you will be an overnight celebrity to literally dozens of people. What more could you ask for?

Ok, here we go. Below I’ve put a list of the bowls along with some useful information like records, locations and point spreads. And, of course, a little inspiration to help you make your picks! (*Note: Hottness of co-eds should not be used as a factor in making your picks!*

What Are You Looking For? Well type it in!

THE WISDOM OF DOUG STANHOPE

They say if you give a man a fish, he'll eat for a day, but if you teach a man to fish.... then he's gotta get a fishing license. But he doesn't have any money. So he's got to get a job and get into the Social Security system and pay taxes, and now you're gonna audit the poor cocksucker, 'cause he's not really good with math. So he'll pull the IRS van up to your house, and he'll take all your shit. He'll take your black velvet Elvis and your Batman toothbrush, and your penis pump, and that all goes up for auction with the burden of proof on you because you forgot to carry the one, 'cause you were just worried about eating a fucking fish, and you couldn't even cook the fish 'cause you needed a permit for an open flame. Then the Health Department is going to start asking you a lot of questions about where are you going to dump the scales and the guts. 'This is not a sanitary environment.' And ladies and gentlemen, if you get sick of it all at the end of the day... it's not even legal to kill yourself in this country.